It was a well-known fact amongst the fair folk of the Feywild that pixies bore a terrible passion for gossip of all sorts, so it was before the party had even passed beneath the arch of wonder that every pixie clan of the sprawling cavern knew of their arrival. They came in droves dressed in flower petals, silken leaves, and bumblebee fuzz to gawk at the new arrivals — every pixie knew of the tales and legends of lost adventurers and wished to be the pixie to guide or beguile the heroes. Soon the sky buzzed as they filled the air, clad in either flaunting pride or invisibility and shyness.

However, upon seeing the pointed hat and dark scowl, they hesitated — it wouldn’t do to be the one to aid the quest, only to be bottled or turned into a brew in reward. And as the pixies bickered and chittered above, Autumn sweated and cursed below as she tried to recall everything she knew of fairies to warn her party.

“Alright, listen up everyone — this is important,” Autumn said, gathering the attention of her party and several eavesdropping pixies. “Fairies and other Fae-folk have a bunch of rules they follow and will expect us to as well. Although I suspect they only follow them for fun, so don’t push them to break them…It won’t work out well for us, trust me.”

Everyone nodded at the witch’s words, even the insect-winged pixie bravely sitting on her shoulder. However, when Autumn looked towards the shimmer out of the corner of her eye, there was nothing there.

Shaking the distraction from her mind, Autumn continued on. “First — do not give away your name!! And don’t make one up either as they hate lies — words are law here, so always be true even if it is in denial. I think nicknames are fine, but I’m not sure, so it’s best to be careful. Take nothing — no offerings, gifts, or food. Give no thanks as it implies a debt unpaid and say no sorrys as it cheapens their kindness. Make no promises nor bargains for it must be paid, but if you absolutely must, make sure you are specific about it! Give and gain in equal measure,” Autumn panted with stress. “You know what? Just let me do the talking! Finally, and this is the most important one — always be polite!”

The party tentatively nodded as they tried to absorb the knowledge Autumn bombarded them with. Around them, the pixies looked impressed, if a little annoyed at her knowledge.

“You know a lot about the fae?” Nelva asked. “I know you said you had some trouble with them before.”

The promise of juicy gossip perked up the pixies listening in.

Autumn shook her head. “I’ve mostly just read about them. Other than the Summer Court,” the pixies winced, “I’ve not met any others, and that encounter didn’t go well. Oh, that reminds me — watch where you step as crossing into a mushroom ring is a bad idea.”

The adventurers all looked up at the archway glowing above them above.

“I don’t think archways count,” Autumn said, before adding, “hopefully.”

“Don’t forget thy cold-iron,” the banshee whispered to Autumn. “Rid thyself of its ilk for those seeking ill of thee it shalt not bother, instead those with aid to giveth thee shalt findeth insult from its presence.”

‘Right,’ Autumn said back mentally as she untied the cold-iron horseshoe from her pack and hid it amongst their other gear at the back of the sleigh. ‘What about regular iron like our swords and armor?’

“Fire-worked metals art fine — mithril or enchanted would be better obviously.”

‘Why’s that?’ Autumn asked. ‘Do fae like that metal or something.”

The banshee shrugged with the soul-cage. “Yond pixies hath cometh for a story, a legend — the more thee art beheld as one, the better.”

And to be fair to them, the adventurers looked the part — riding in on dragon bones and led by death’s glowing lantern as they had. They even had the knight, the fool, and the lover aboard — the watching pixies were already making bets on who’d take on the role of the hanged man.

Suddenly, Eme called out. “Hey! They’re coming down!”

Sure enough, coming down from the luminous archway above, was a trio of disparate-looking pixies on fluttering wings. The first had skin like gold clad in the softest of bumble-bee fuzz, while the second bore pale skin hidden under a dress made of spider-silk and a ladybug’s carapace. A peach-toned pixie brought up the rear, looking like they’d just discovered what clothing was and had to fashion some in a hurry out of leaves, leaving them only in what roughly looked like a skirt and top.

“Are they dangerous?” Nethlia asked as she watched the trio’s descent.

Autumn hummed. “Hmm, kinda — pixies are more pranksters than anything, but can be helpful to those they like. So…be likable?” she offered.

There was nothing more Autumn could say as the trio of pixies arrived to hover before the adventuring party. While she waited respectfully, Autumn named them in her mind — Queen-bee, Ladybug, and Leaf-bound.

Queen-bee was the first to speak, her voice high-pitched but not unpleasant as she spoke in the mortal tongue. “Hail and well met travels of yore and legend! You grace the halls of Toteedelsteinheim. Pray, may I have your names?”

Before anyone else could foolishly reply, Autumn stepped forward. “Our names are our own and not freely given, but many names I am known — Witch being one.”

The pixies tittered as they spun in place, having not really expected her to fall for the most obvious of traps.

It was Ladybug that spoke next. “Tis a wise witch that stands afore us. One which is gossiped about so — of the embarrassment of the summer maiden and a wild hunt failed.”

Autumn opened her mouth to ask, but stopped to think over her words, much to the amusement of the pixies. With a slow nod, the witch spoke. “While I’d not accuse her of such, I was stolen from both in body and mind.”

The pixies muttered amongst themselves at the accusation. In the lands of the fae, theft contradicted their rules of hospitality and they scorned it — or at least blatant theft was. Tricking a mortal into giving over what they owned was seen as fair game. Unease rippled through the flock of fairies as they wondered whether they’d be liable for reciprocity at the breakage of hospitality.

It was Queen-bee who spoke again, more carefully this time. “If a member of the Summer Court has breached etiquette, then it is to them to make right.”

“The Fair Maiden has proven herself undeserving of my hospitality in turn,” Autumn said as she touched her replaced fingers. She felt a little bad at making the curious pixies squirm, as they clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near the ire of a witch or a member of the Summer Court.

Seeking a safer topic, Leaf-bound questioned the witch, “What brings you here?”

“A river,” Autumn joked, although she was unsure why she did so.

There was a beat of silence before the pixies erupted into a fit of giggles while Leaf-bound pouted. As she didn’t want to offend the fae, Autumn continued on.

“That, a sleigh made of dragon bones, and a quest — a story in the making that so far has spanned more than one realm.”

Now the pixies crowded in closer, eager for a tale.

“Unfortunately, we’ve found ourselves lost and unable to continue. Perhaps the story ends here?” Autumn made sure to direct her question to Nethlia rather than the fae. The berserker looked confused, but gamely shrugged.

The trio of pixies convened to whisper together. After a moment they returned to Autumn.

“Many things find themselves lost down here, perhaps a way to be unlost got lost as well,” Ladybug said.

“Perhaps,” Autumn said doubtfully.

Seeing her unconvinced, Leaf-bound asked, “art thee hungry? Thirsty? A tale told on a tight tongue is no tale told at all.”

The others in the party perked up, but Autumn just shook her head. “We ate before we left and just had a drink under the waterfall.”

Leaf-bound pouted, “but I make a nice berry-pie~ Why are mortals always so full?”

The other two pixies rolled their eyes at their more wild cousin. Unfortunately, for Autumn’s bargaining tactics, she could see the pixies growing increasingly bored with the exchange and if she didn’t reel them back in, they’d just leave the party to wander the waterways of the cavern on their lonesome.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Well~” Autumn began, perking the pixies back up, “before we ventured into this grand domain and met your beautiful selves,” the pixies preened at that, not immune to flattery, “we were on the hunt of a wicked, foul, and ugly beast — a swamp hag.” The fairies booed, their faces twisting into anger at the mention of a hag. Autumn’s heart beat wildly in her chest, but she continued. “Her hand slew many a valiant hero, some were compatriots of mine, and I’ve promised to slay her till she has without any hope of revival.”

The pixies shuddered with fear and joy as she spoke her promise, knowing instinctively that she meant what she said — that it was no mortal whimsy, but a fae-forged pact.

“Do you know this swamp hag’s name?” Queen-bee asked.

“I do.”

“Would you tell us?” Ladybug now asked.

“I would,” was all Autumn replied.

The trio of pixies huffed in annoyance and amusement. Their eyes flickered to the other party members awkwardly crowding the sleigh behind the witch but found no opening there. Liddie winked as the fairies looked her over.

Reluctantly Ladybug spoke, “we might know a knower who knows what you want to know.”

Autumn raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “The name of whom we seek in exchange for passage to your knower, who definitely knows how to get to whom we seek?”

The pixies booed.

“Nay,” Queen-bee said. “Tis an unfair exchange, for how can we know if the knower knows if we don’t know what the knower is meant to know? And take out that definitely! There is no such thing!!”

Leaf-bound shrugged. “Best we can do is point the way to the knower — if they don’t know then how can they be the knower?”

Autumn nervously licked her lips as her stomach flipped. “Give me—” Autumn’s teeth clicked loudly as she cut herself off, asking anything from the fae was a bad idea. Smiling at the grinning fae, the witch turned to the Pyre. “Alchemist, how varied are your ingredients?”

Pyre tore her eyes away from the curious fairies and gave Autumn an odd look. “Reasonably. What do you need, Au–witch?”

“Do you have any honey?” Autumn whispered.

“Some,” Pyre said slowly before fetching two small jars and handing them over with a resigned look. A look of outrage appeared on the others’ faces as they realized the alchemist had been hoarding sweets. The pixies tried to peer at the exchange, but Autumn tucked them away too quickly.

Autumn returned to the front and licked her lips. “So, a name of whom we seek in exchange for directions to the knower who knows what we want to know and a small offering?”

Ladybug scoffed, but seemed pleased by the act of sly bartering. “The name, as much as you know of it, not just a name.”

“And it’s ‘the knower who might know what you want to know,’” Leaf-bound said, as she bounced, “and we want to know what the offering is first!”

“Also, not just whom you seek, but whom you seek to fulfill your promise. You’re far too young to trick us,” Queen-bee tutted.

Autumn chuckled guiltily as the pixies giggled at her. “Ok. The name — as much as I know of it — of whom we seek to fulfill my promise in exchange for directions to the knower who might know what we want to know and an offering of—” Autumn placed one of the small jars of honey on the edge of the sleigh. Immediately, all the pixies fixated on it, their eyes shining as they licked their lips. “—this jar of honey.”

The three pixies huddled together whispering fiercely while glancing covetously at the jar bigger than themselves — it was enough honey for them to swim in…if it was full.

“The jar needs to be inspected first! It could be half empty!” Queen-bee cried out.

Autumn opened the jar and showed them the glistening substance that filled the jar to the brim. She could have pushed them to accept the jar whether or not it was full, but pissing off more fae wasn’t on the witch’s agenda.

However, it seemed the trio of fairies weren’t done trying to wring more from the adventurers.

“How about a joke? We could ask for one?” Leaf-bound asked the other two.

“Nay, mortals tell shit jokes,” Ladybug complained, “I want a song!”

Queen-bee looked over at Eme, startling the catgirl. “Hmm, they do have a bard — the lover at that. Are we settling on that? Nothing fun from them?”

“Nay, these ones are too smart it seems,” Ladybug pouted. “They kept their fool muzzled.” Liddie squinted at the fairy coyly looking at her.

The three pixies nodded before turning back to the witch. “We want you to give us a song in the exchange.”

Autumn smiled. Unexpectedly, she liked these strange creatures even when they tried to trick her. “One of us can sing a song, but we can not give what isn’t ours.”

Ladybug clicked her tongue. “Usually that one works — I even let them hear me call them smart and everything.”

Rather than give them time to get their momentum back and think of something clever, Autumn listed out the exchange once more, hopefully for the last time. “The name — as much as I know of it — of whom we seek to fulfill my promise in exchange for directions to the knower who might know what we want to know, an offering of this jar of honey, and a song sung by one of us.”

The pixies grumbled but appeared pleased with the deal.

Autumn breathed a sigh of relief as the deal settled over her and she felt nothing untoward within it nor any malicious intent radiating off the pixies — they’d had their fun pushing her about already. All that remained was for her to fulfill her part of the bargain and pray they would do the same.

“The one whom we seek is the foulest of hags, the one known as,” the pixies leaned in closer, “Mildred, the Finger Eater.”

At the mention of the hag’s name the pixies recoiled, hissing and spitting. Autumn’s heart thundered in her chest as they bared their needle-like teeth. Behind her the party shifted nervously, reaching for their weapons. However, before tensions could boil over the pixies calmed themselves.

In the back of the flock, one pixie called out. “We should’ve given them directions for free if they’re going to kill the foul bitch after what she did to Foxcurl!!”

Hurriedly, the other fairies shushed the speaker and hid them from Autumn’s searching gaze. In the front, Queen-bee grinned. “It’s about time some heroes were sent after that hag.”

Autumn frowned. “Nobody sent us, we’re doing this under our own free-will.”

“Sure you are~ you do you~,” Ladybug waved her off. “Now, song time! Then we’ll tell you where to find the knower.”

Autumn nodded before turning to Eme, “can you carry a beat after I start it?”

Eme started. “Umm, sure? But with what? I don’t have any drums.”

“Use the railing and your dragon bone arm. It doesn’t need to be perfect, just do your best.”

Autumn began to hum, letting Eme carry the tune before she started.

“Double, double toil—”

“““NO!””” the pixie mob screamed, startling Autumn and breaking her rhythm. Frowning in annoyance she turned to the trio for an explanation. Ladybug frowned back at her. “No Macbeth! We’re sick to death of it! Everyone of you travelers play the same damn tune!! We’re done with the Avon bard!”

“Yeah!” the flock cried. “Down with the bard of Avon!!!”

“Sing something funny!” another cried out, which was swiftly turned into a chant.

Autumn rummaged through her mind for anything funny and blushed when something came to mind. She’d read once that pixies were of Celtic origin, so she hoped they’d like a folk song that’d come from that region of Earth. The trio of pixies grinned at the witch’s pink cheeks. “Well, I know one, but it’s a bawdy one,” she admitted.

The flock cheered. “The bawdier the better,” Leaf-bound said.

“Ok,” Autumn said, “this one’s called the Scotsman.” Closing her eyes, Autumn focused on the beat, pounding the tune into the railing of the sleigh. Eme caught the tune quickly and soon overtook Autumn, allowing her to focus on the lyrics. Behind the pair the others in the party caught onto the musical fever and stomped in time while above them the pixies clapped their tiny hands together.

Taking in a deep breath, Autumn started singing. “Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair…”

The bawdry tune spilled free of Autumn’s mouth, almost without prompting. Never in her life did she think she’d be singing this particular song amongst company, polite or otherwise, let alone a flock of fairies. However, it was proving a massive hit amongst the fair folk and as they grew accustomed to the repeating format; they joined in the choruses like veterans of tawdry drinking songs.

Behind her was a different story.

While Nethlia, Edwyn, and Liddie were getting into the song with equal or even more vigor than the rowdy fairies, the others varied from shocked, scandalized, or delighted — Pyre, Nelva, and Eme, in that order.

Autumn’s cheeks burned as the song continued until she drew to the final line, joined in by the raucous crowd. “…O lad I don't know where you’ve been but I see you won first prize!”

The flock roared in approval as the song ended — Liddie joined in by whistling much to Autumn embarrassment.

And with it done, so too was Autumn’s half of the bargain.

As the flock of fairies flew away, they descended into the ribald song once more, adding progressively filthier lines as they went. Autumn shook her head as she struggled to catch her breath, it was only now she realized the pixies liked her as they could have kept her singing till she passed out — she wasn’t sure how long the song had to be to satisfy the pranksters.

A beaming Queen-bee flew over to the honeypot, glomping onto it before trying to fly away before the other two could catch up. However, the other two were not far behind and grabbed onto it.

In a rush, Ladybug gave her the directions promised…in the pixie tongue.

“Now, to the knower — an old Cobynau by the way— you need to take the waters over to the gemstone left foot and follow it up past the ankle. If you go past the knee, then you’ve gone too far — you’ll hear them anyway, just listen for the dinging!”

Autumn blinked as all three struggled into the air carrying the jar of honey between them. Perhaps it was pettiness, or just a desire to get one over the funny pranksters, but as they were just about to leave earshot Autumn called out to them in the pixie tongue.

“I’ve not seen prettier pixies than you three before!”

The trio dropped a foot in shock before righting themselves. Autumn cackled as they rushed away in fright. Turning around she took in the smirking, humming, or shell-shocked members of her party.

Nethlia coughed, suppressing her grin. “Well, that was something. Now, I hope you know where we are going, cause none of us speak fairy.”